


fever dreaming

by kuro49



Series: thirty days of writing '18 [20]
Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: Drabble, F/F, Post-Season/Series 01 Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-08-05 18:09:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16372538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuro49/pseuds/kuro49
Summary: Obsession doesn’t need reason, it hardly even needs cause. Most people find this hard to swallow, but Eve, well.Eve Polastri is not most people. She is just Villanelle’s type.





	fever dreaming

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: a hand covering a mouth

 

Here is what separates them and her, draws a pretty stark line right down the middle where she is always standing on the outside looking in. You see, rational people seek for an explanation where there is none. 

Obsession doesn’t need reason, it hardly even needs cause. Most people find this hard to swallow, but Eve, well. 

Eve Polastri is not most people. She is just Villanelle’s type.

_Sorry baby._

The apology feels like a caress even when it comes as a slap. Sincerity is an unfamiliar feeling and she is so sweet on her. Villanelle’s fixation with Eve is a weakness she exploits through and through when she plunges Villanelle’s own switchblade into her abdomen and pulls it right out.

The pain is dizzying, to say the least.

As Oksana stumbles out of her apartment, she finds herself thinking, almost absentmindedly as her hand goes to press down on the entrance (and exit) wound. She’s going to miss this place.

Her clothes are ruined and the pain that spreads is numbing as the door to the service elevator of the building closes behind her. Oksana squeezes her eyes shut, brings a hand to her mouth to muffle the scream that she lets out. She is losing blood fast, and in hindsight, there is lots for her to do in order to salvage what remains.

The elevator stops and Oksana drops her hand to her side.

Maybe it is the searing pain but Oksana can still taste the scant distance and that almost kiss they shared. She thinks about Eve like she is some kind of fever dream, and it’s hard to be mad when Eve’s lit a literal fire in her.

The elevator doors drag open and she steps out with a smile.

For now, there’s much to do.

 


End file.
